[Bounty Hunter Wars] - 03(48)

“Simple enough,” replied Xizor evenly. “I have another business associate who will take your place. One who has all your contacts, all your connections; one who knows your business better than you do.”

“Impossible!” All of Kud’ar Mub’at’s spidery limbs thrashed the stale air in the chamber. The accountant subnode called Balancesheet had already scurried onto the nearest wall for safety. “There is …. no such creature …” The assembler’s reedy voice spiraled into a high-pitched, fragmented scream. “Anywhere … in the galaxy…”

With the blaster pistol still covering the others before him, Boba Fett watched the small drama play out between the Falleen prince and the arachnoid assembler. He already had an idea what the final act was going to be.

One of Prince Xizor’s hands reached out, languid and graceful, yet possessed of untrembling power. He held his open palm upward, and the subnode Balancesheet scuttled onto it. The miniature version of its parent turned around in the small space and set its multilensed gaze upon Kud’ar Mub’at.

“You old fool.”

The subnode’s words were no longer spoken in the tone, both efficient and obsequious, that it had always used before. Now its voice was both deeper and touched with a newly won authority. To Boba Fett’s eyes, the subnode even appeared slightly larger than before, as though it were already literally expanding into its new role in life. Perched on Xizor’s hand, Balancesheet raised its own forelimbs in a expansive gesture.

“Things will be very different now,” said Balancesheet. Its brilliant glittering eyes glanced over at Boba Fett. “For many of us. And yet, in certain ways, things will remain exactly the same. There will be a member of our unique species, an arachnoid assembler, at the center of a vast, invisible web spanning the galaxy.” The little subnode’s voice rose in volume and pitch. “Arranging delicate matters, pulling strings, putting one creature in contact with another-all those delicate items of business that one of our breed is capable of doing so well. But there can only be one web like that, and only one assembler listening to and making those little tugs upon its strands. And that assembler’s name will no longer be Kud’ar Mub’at. You’ve had a long time at the center, time in which you’ve grown old and fat and stupid. But that time is done now.”

At the base of Kud’ar Mub’at’s nest, the stormtrooper Voss’on’t looked up at the small creature perched on the Falleen’s hand. The grimace on Voss’on’t’s face spelled both repugnance and incomprehension. It was obvious that he wasn’t sure what was going on, but had figured out that it wasn’t going to do him any good.

“An excellent demonstration, don’t you think?” Prince Xizor smiled cruelly as he held his new business associate up at his own eye level. “That a powerful entity may be housed within an unimposing physical form. It should serve as a reminder to all of us that appearances can be deceiving.”

Boba Fett watched as the larger assembler twitched

and

shook uncontrollably in its nest. The revelation had struck Kud’ar Mub’at dumbfounded. Its lipless mouth hung open, gaping at its own creation, now completely independent-and triumphant.

“Such a thing … cannot be …” The trembling in Kud’ar Mub’at’s limbs grew even more pronounced and erratic, as though it were trying to reassert its will over the mutinous Balancesheet. “I… I made you!”

“And if you had not been so blind,” replied Balancesheet, “and besotted with your own cleverness, you would have been able to detect that I was no longer merely an extention of your own neurosystem.” In one of its forelimb claws, Balancesheet held up the thin, pallid strand that had once linked it to the living web around it. The broken end dangled from the former subnode’s grip, a few centimeters from the palm

that

held Balancesheet aloft. “I was free from you even before Boba Fett’s ship crashed into the web.”

Like a broken thing, Kud’ar Mub’at shrank back down into its nest. “I… had… no idea …” The spidery limbs folded around its abdomen, as though trying to preserve the fading warmth of life. “I trusted you … I needed you…”

“That was your mistake,” said Balancesheet coldly. “And your last one.”

Prince Xizor extended his hand toward the chamber’s curved wall; Balancesheet scuttled from his palm and onto the densely tangled structural fibers. “I’m afraid,” said Xizor, “that the business relationship between us is over now, Kud’ar Mub’at.” The edges of Xizor’s cape swung forward as he folded his massive arms across his chest. “While Black Sun still has need of a go-between for certain delicate matters where we wish to keep our own participation as secret as possible, what we don’t need is an associate who has grown either too complacent or too senile to notice this small rebellion taking place under its own nose. You’ve already lost a war, Kud’ar Mub’at, that you didn’t even know was being fought. Black Sun can’t afford to be sentimental about what you’ve done for us in the past; we have to go with the winner.”